


Seasons Change but People Don't

by meta_mish



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angsty Manpain, Drug Use, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Trans Character, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 09:32:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6950794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meta_mish/pseuds/meta_mish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick just wants to be loved and will do anything to get people to notice him, even hiding his feelings behind a tough guy exterior. </p><p>Because who wants to know about Rick Sanchez when Rick "Bad Boy" Sanchez is so much more interesting?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Boring but Overcompensate with Graffiti and Fight Fight Fights!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Birdperson's name in this is B-man and Gearhead is Gee. (Original I know)
> 
> This is my first published fanfiction inspired by my creative writing fiction class. I had the first two chapters done already, but the third one I worked on once I started my summer break. 
> 
> This is un-beta'ed and probably OOC, so proceed with caution.

The three boys crept silently through the empty school halls, spray cans uncapped and ready to fire. Rick couldn’t think of a better way to end his summer. The stale air of the building cooled their warm skin as their feet slid across marbled floors, like spies invading into the White House.

Of course, they were dressed for the part. Josh the jock had some basketball shorts, Jordans, and a plain white T-shirt, while Tyler took a more conservative approach with a button up and dark jeans. Rick looked down at his own clothes, black worn hoodie and some ripped up jeans, and decided to scuff the polished floor with his old converse.

“Shh! Be careful. I don’t want to get suspended before we even start school,” said Josh. Rick rolled his eyes. He uncapped the can and pulled his hood up, covering as much of his messy black hair as possible.

Typical Josh. He wanted to live the “bad boy” life but not willing to take the consequences of it. He embraced the athlete lifestyle, barely passing his classes and focused all his efforts on being recruited, but God forbid he get suspended or expelled and not able to touch his balls.

Tyler on the other hand, wasn’t as concerned. He mostly stayed quiet in and outside of class. Rumor had it that Tyler got into a big gang fight and almost died.

Rick signaled Josh and Tyler to follow him, leading them to the auditorium. Rick stopped the group to make a crude drawing on someone’s locker. He took a step back, admiring his handiwork, as if it were the Mona Lisa. Josh shoved him to bring Rick back to the task at hand.

“We only have half an hour to do this,” Josh said as he pulled Rick away from another one of his signature paintings.

When they arrived in the auditorium, Rick gathered them into a circle, like a football team about to make their last play of the game, one touchdown away from winning the game. “So look, we have to split up the design,” Rick said. He pulled the drawing from his back pocket, “Josh, go for the top since you’re tall and Tyler, you go for the words since you got some great shit. I’ll do the rest. I want to words ‘Don’t look into her eyes’ and her looking like Medusa.” Blank stares met Rick’s. “The snake lady that we learned about last year you idiots. Now let’s do this!” Rick shook the spray can and stalked to the back wall, ready to tear shit up as Josh and Tyler whooped in the background.

A brief silence took over the delinquents, each looking for a way to do their respective assignments, but soon after, Rick heard the sweet sound of spray cans and felt the toxic waste polluting his lungs. The others had a bandana covering their mouths, but Rick ditched that particular piece of equipment long ago. The experience of inhaling the spray paint exhilarated Rick and having a bandana cover his mouth ruined the vibe. He could feel a layer of paint covering his lungs, forcing him into a coughing fit, hacking and spitting as much as he could.

With the mural almost complete, Rick took a step away from the mural, watching the other two add the finishing touches on the piece. “You’ve really outdone yourself Josh. That is one hell of a drawing. You think you can do that again on a napkin or something?”

All three turned their heads to the hall when they heard footsteps.

“Hey! Stop!”

“Shit!” Rick said and bolted for the exit, a loud clank ringing through the auditorium as the spray cans hit the floor. The others followed after him just as eagerly. He kicked the door open and yelled, “why the fuck are they here? Who spilled?” Rick skidded on the floor, turning down various halls and running through classrooms to hide from the authorities. When Rick looked behind, he saw Josh catching up, all his soccer training coming in handy.

“Rick, have you ever thought it was your damn coughing fit that might have ticked them off,” Josh said from behind. Tyler got closer to Rick now too, looking a little winded, but otherwise indifferent.

“Who was supposed to find out their smoke break time? Was it supposed to be you Josh? Maybe you should have done a better job Josh,” Rick said, avoiding the banner at the main entrance.

“Get back here. We’ll find out who did this, don’t think you can get away with this,” the men said.

“Hah! Yeah right!” Rick kicked the door open, the satisfying click of the door behind them a weight off their shoulders as they continued to run for a block. They all slowed down to a jog, Rick gasping for breath as he started to giggle. The sound gradually increased until Rick wiped tears from his eyes from how hard he laughed. Josh and Tyler just looked at Rick with a bored expression. “Duuude that was crazy. Man, so worth it. We finished everything right?” Rick asked. He patted himself down, a frown taking over his jubilant mood. “Okay, did anyone take the drawing plans” he said. Rick looked at the other two, his expression grew bleaker as the two shook their heads. “Fuck!”

“What is it?” Josh asked, scratching his head like he would watching a NASCAR race.

“Nothing. Just some shit I had scribbled on the back. I think I can redo it, but fuck that took a lot of work,” Rick said, pushing his hoodie back to reveal his messy black hair, a hand threading its way through it, “Fuck!”

The trio stood in an awkward silence, the two tagalongs looking at each other, wondering if they could leave now. Rick continued to ruffle his head, mumbling to himself.

“Uhh, Rick,” Josh asked, “look, I don’t want to be an ass or anything, but the longer we stay out, the more likely we might get caught. Can we leave now?” Rick glanced back at the two before he looked away, waving his hand in their general direction.

“Yeah, yeah. You guys can go. We’re done here.”

Josh and Tyler took one last look at Rick before walking down the street, hoods up and hands in their pockets.

Rick looked down at his hands, cursing himself for forgetting the paper. His summer work, all gone in seconds. He wasn’t that pissed off about the drawing. Josh and Tyler knew their way around art and made the mural a lot more detailed and incredible than his shitty scribbles. No, the anger stemmed from the formulas and theory on the back that he left behind. He spent days slaving over physics and engineering books at the library, trying to come up with a plausible transportation device.

The device was almost done. Rick crafted the handheld device to send him to places around the world. More likely, the device would transport him a few feet away, but Rick liked to dream big. Dream of a world where he can escape the woeful words of his mother, the quiet dismissal of his father. Maybe, the device would impress them both, give them a reason to like him. Another aspect of Rick for them to focus on.

But messes seem to follow Rick like a lost puppy and misery like a heavy fog. Looking on the bright side, he still hadn’t had a chance to test the math, so it could be a complete failure.

Rick walked towards his house, adrenalin from almost getting caught worn off. Back to the waste of his room for the few hours left of night.

 

The next day, Rick navigated his way through the crowd, quickening his pace when he saw B-man on the other side. Hard to miss him sticking out of the crowd at a height of six four. Rick and B-man, they had been through a lot of shit together.

One time during middle school, the two of them snuck into the theater to watch some films when Rick saw his old bully from the school his transferred out of, Chad. Of course, Chad had to visit the two friends and push some old buttons. Rick was about ready to beat Chad up, but B-man pulled Rick away and delivered the most acrid response to him, which resulted in Chad never bothering Rick again.

“EY! B-MAN! QUE ROLLO CON EL HOYO!” B-man turned towards the sound, nodding his head at Rick and waited for him to catch up to the group. Standing next to B-man looked like putting a cow and horse next to each other. One stood graceful and beautiful while the other was fat and had utters. B-man had thick, black hair that seemed to flutter in the wind.

“What’s up my homie? Got any good hook-ups to talk about?” Rick asked, nudging his elbow in B-man’s side. He grunted in reply and pushed Rick’s elbow away.

“If you must know, I did ‘hook up’ with a girl over the summer. Her name is Kayin,” he said, crossing his arms in front, keeping his poker face as still as always.

“Kayin. Nice. You know I heard she’s a good lay,” Rick laughed and clapped B-man’s shoulder. B-man stared at Rick, his brown eyes punching holes in his head, as if he can see inside Rick’s mind.

“Rick, is something troubling you that you want to share?” B-man asked, eyes narrowing in concern over his friend of ten years. Rick sighed, scuffing his feet against the broken concrete ground. It’s not that Rick didn’t appreciate his friend’s concern, just that he has no class when it came to bringing up his problems. He didn’t exactly want the whole world to know he happened to have a heart. Rick rather liked being seen as the cold-hearted criminal who has no emotions and no history, just violence and chaos.

Rick looked back up, a grin set in place before replying, “No, I’m fine B-man, nothing of concern for anybody.”

B-man continued to stare at him until Gee spoke up, making everyone look over to the newcomer to the group.

“What’s everybody’s concern?” Rick rolled his eyes while Gee bellowed out booming laugh. Gee was more than annoying. He was beyond any comprehension of annoying. While he remained one of the few guys shorter than him, he refused to let Rick live down the fact he couldn’t speak any Spanish. Plus, he always got in your face all the time. Still, Gee showed Rick that he could count on him.

“Nothing Gee, just your obvious lack of fashion taste as a gay man. Honestly, who dresses you in the morning? Your goldfish?”

Gee glared at Rick while Rick laughed, holding his stomach over his apparent genius comeback.

“You think you’re sooooo funny don’t you Rick?” Gee said, “Well, you’re not. No one but you is laughing. Just so you know.”

He crossed his arms, standing as straight as possible to seem taller. Rick grinned and ruffled his friend’s hair, Gee’s face growing darker than a tomato.

The bell rang, signaling the start of the new school year. “Time for everyone to see my masterpiece. You two will certainly enjoy this one,” Rick cackled, smacking Gee and B-man’s back and dragging them towards the doors.

 

School was for chumps who had money in their back pocket and time to spare. Since Rick fell into neither of those categories, he chose to lean back in his seat and not give a fuck. Around him all his classmates stared, admiring the bad boy for his carefree attitude.

It took a while for Rick to build up his reputation and came at many costs. When Rick entered any new school, no matter what, the administration would put him in lower level classes and study groups with other Black kids and Hispanic kids. Ignore the fact that Rick continuously scored high on his entrance exams and passed all his classes. Doing any kind of assignment with them felt torturous. No one understood the topic and Rick had to explain to all of them, again, what they just learned. No matter how tedious, Rick marveled at the way the other kids came to him for answers rather than their teachers.

Being “friends” with the dumb kids had its advantages too. Fights and sports were big in that crowd, so Rick learned how to fight good. Think the movie Fight Club, but no one actually died. Yet.

Once Rick started to fight with his teachers, he earned the reputation he has today. Back in middle school science, Adams, the teacher, said something completely wrong. Rick felt pretty tough and confident that day, and he never really liked Adams anyways. He stood up from his chair, marched over to the chalkboard, erased the information from the board with large sweeping motions, picked up a piece of chalk, and wrote the correct information. Adams just stood there, watching with piercing blue eyes, face growing a warm shade of red and his body tensing up like a spring ready to let go.

When Rick dropped the chalk with a loud smack back onto the table, Adams blew up, like fireworks. The other kids in the class got a kick out of the situation, small Sanchez in a big sweater getting ripped apart by this buff guy in a button up and tie. Everyone went into stunned silence when Rick spit on the floor in front of the teacher, a disgusted sneer on his face that told everyone, “I don’t give a shit.”

Except, he actually said that.

Rick felt all the air in the room disappear, each student held their breath to see what would happen next. Adams just lifted his arm and pointed towards the door in the back before spitting out a quick “to the principal’s office now,” glaring at Rick.

After that, Rick felt different. Walking around school, Rick felt respect when he walked down the hall. People he didn’t know from sports teams and the popular crowd would nod their head towards him or give a high five when he walked by. The teachers took more caution when they dealt with him, watching his every move.

Rick was finally known. People knew his name and respected him.

“Hey Rick.”

Rick felt a tap on his shoulder that brought him back from his trip down memory lane. Rick made a small sound of inquiry and turned his head to see a sports jersey and gelled hair appear on the peripheral of his vision. Josh leaned forward.

“Tyler’s having a party at his house. You going to come?” Rick couldn’t help the snicker that escaped.

“Josh, you’re actually asking me that? I thought you knew better man,” Rick said, turning his body around to face Josh and lay his head on Josh’s desk. “Unless…you’re asking me on a date,” Rick said, looking up through his lashes and blinking them as seductively as possible. Josh looked around quickly with terror on his face before looking back at Rick, the slightest bit of red on his cheeks and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Dude, no. You can stop that. It’s not funny,” Josh said.

“What Josh? I thought what we had was special?” Rick reached out for Josh’s shoulder, touching it lightly before cackling and turning back around, loving the horrified expression Josh had on his face.

A party at Tyler’s house? His parties never disappoint and Rick wanted to break the dry spell he caught himself in.

“Rick Sanchez to the principal’s office now. Rick Sanchez to the principal’s office now.” The loudspeaker said, Rick grinning as he got out of his seat and walked towards the door. The last he heard was the feverish whispers of his classmates over, what surely became, his greatest accomplishment. 

Rick staggered into the room, tripping over air before reaching his end destination. The couch seemed just a few steps away now. The world spun in a beautiful array of colors, light streaming into his pupils and filling his head with warmth and happiness. The soft forest green carpet under his fingertips felt like tiny electric shocks shooting through his veins. His stomach churned with the effort to digest all the alcohol in his system, working furiously to process the enzymes before the dizziness got too real. Rick laughed, turning his head into the couch arm, intent on resting for a few minutes before going to get another round of drinks, drugs, and drunkard girls.

“Rick, you drunken idiot”

A firm poke in his sides immediately woke him up, causing him to mumble incomprehensibly.

“Rick, we need to talk.” His thoughts added shape to the words, a trip down a black hole circling in a never-ending loop of eternity, light never escaping the inevitable.

“You’re right, we need to talk about the way your butt is out of this world!”

“Rick this is serious! We need to get you out of here before you do something stupid.” There was a steady beat in the background, getting higher and higher in pitch, pulling Rick’s brain into a thousand different places. The beat before the bass drops.

“What did you say?”

“Sara knows,” the boy continued, but only fuzz came through Rick’s ears. That pumping in his stomach went from sweet to sour in an instant, legs already moving to the closest dumping ground. Whoever stood in front of him got pushed aside, maintaining his cool persona being infinitely more important that whatever this person had to say. The colors in the air swirled, this time dangerously hypnotic before he collapsed in front of the pure white porcelain where all his secrets got flushed away.

Rick heard only his hacking, footsteps behind him, and a strange groan coming from inside the bathroom.

 

The morning after Tyler’s party, Rick felt worse than he typically felt after a night of drinking and drugs. He woke up shirtless in the corner of the bathroom, shirt nowhere to be seen. He was the only one inside, but when he tried to get up, a sharp ache pierced his head, making him groan in pain. He slowly cradled his head in both his hands, still laying on the floor, focusing hard on getting rid of the migraine now starting in his head.

The night before was crazy, that’s for sure. Rick knew he might have drank a bit too much, experimented a bit further than planned with drugs, and possibly injured someone in a drunken brawl. He even felt the dull ache in his jaw and side from a good hard punch. There was a burning sensation at the back of his throat and his stomach swirled in a nauseating beat that kept him down. His eyes stung a bit after blinking them open. To sum up, he felt like shit.

After a few moments lying on the cold tiled floor, Rick tried a second time to get up, succeeding in sitting up only to thrust himself back onto the toilet, head falling onto the white porcelain with a hard thump. Retching sounds echoed off the walls and made him feel even more disgusted and sick. After what felt like hours throwing up in a stranger’s bathroom, Rick finally got to his feet, clutching the edge of the sink to rinse out the sickly aftertaste of alcohol and bile.

After a few rinses, Rick looked back up at the tiny mirror above the sink, grim and dirt distorted his image, yet capturing his personality perfectly. Rick reached for his eyes, bagged down with the weight of sleepless and wasted nights. His long bony fingers travelled down his jaw, soft, with no definition to them, so girly. His lack of facial hair only made him girlier. Rick bore his teeth, staring that the crooked and yellowing masses of enamel.

He stared at his bare chest and lanky arms. That bruise he felt earlier was already turning blue, blending in with the rest of his bruised and scarred body. There were pink scars all along his arms where angry fathers and selfish mothers all demanded a piece of him. His fingers touched the bones sticking out of his chest, feeling where they broke and healed into stronger new protection. His face scrunched up while he lingered on his chest wondering where his binder went.

A new wave of queasiness hit him like a truck. He collapsed back onto his knees and pathetically moaned for some relief. It was strange that no one heard him throwing up or that they didn’t investigate where the noise was coming from.

When it stopped, Rick washed in the sink, this time avoiding the reflection in the mirror. 

 

“Hey Sanchez,” Sara sneered, “thought you were dead after you crashed on the couch a second time.”

Rick did his best to cover the snort coming from his dismissal. He failed miserably though since he didn’t care about Sara’s feelings.

“I did die, I came back to haunt your sorry ass,” Rick said, crossing his arms, looking away from the brown haired girl and her small pack of minions blocking the hall way. “Anyways, I thought you didn’t come to the party. I didn’t see you anywhere, making a complete fool of yourself.” Sara shook her head slowly, almost mockingly, and put her hands on her hips.

“Doesn’t matter, everyone saw you at the party and boy are you a mess. What’s Rick stand for anyways? I don’t think it really fits you,” she cooed, twirling her hair around her finger. Rick narrowed his eyes at that, letting his arms fall to his side and balling his fist.

“You better be careful. I can knock the shit out of you. I don’t care.”

“Go ahead. It’s not like you’re a real man anyways!”

Rick’s right arm swung down on her like a jackhammer. A sharp crack when his fist met her face, perfect make-up ruined and her hair out of place. His hands stung after the punch and his knuckles hurt like hell. He probably impacted, but he was done here anyways. Rick turned around, hearing the students that had gathered around the two, frantic and shocked.

The words kept playing in his head, swirling in an endless cycle. Rick might have heard some kids yelling for him, or B-man touching his shoulder. Rick just brushed past, not stopping until he got out of the school and down the block. He was on automatic until he reached an ally way he used to frequent when he needed time alone.

He dragged his nail along the brick walls enclosing the alleyway. He ducked behind some boxes and slid down the wall, legs stretching across to the other wall perfectly. Rick closed his eyes, letting his stinging fist lightly hit the ground over and over again, until the stinging just became a dull feeling. B-man would come for him soon. Right now, Rick needed some alone time.


	2. They Say Your Head Can Be a Prison

Darkness fell by the time he snapped out of his reverie and started hiking back home. Cars sped by, and people pushed past the walking boy. Rick felt aimless, letting his feet take him home. He shoved his hands in his pockets to find a cigarette to smoke, but it seemed like he had used them all. His hands shook, but not from the earlier punch. The school probably called home after they found out Rick was the one who did it, smacking their lips to get a taste of some humiliation and defeat. Gee usually had weed, so Rick started to walk towards his friend’s house, even though it was late. He was going to get in trouble anyway, might as well be as numb as possible. Rick walked with a bounce in his step, energy slowly returning to him. When he saw Gee’s building, he walked straight in, just like the hundreds of times before.

Rick and Gee didn’t have a strong bond. They were friends because they understood each other. 

The thought that Gee might not be home didn’t pass Rick’s mind until he stepped on the creaky old staircase. Rick paused for a moment, looking around the small hallway that led to the stairs. He glanced around the sparsely decorated area. The rug in front of the landlord’s door had a “welcome” barely visible. The small table next to the front entrance had nothing on it. Some mailboxes stood next to that and a tiny bucket to put wet umbrellas that no one used. 

Rick drummed his hands on the railing as he loudly trudged up the stairs. A dog on the third floor started to bark, and Rick could hear a couple fighting higher up. He lost count after seven floors. Gee’s apartment was on the top floor, a penthouse so to speak. A stream of light from the streetlight outside the only light in the stairwell in front of Gee’s door.

It was unlocked, a habit that Gee got into when he lost the key to his apartment. So far he’s only had a few pots and some toilet paper stolen, but other than that, most people avoided climbing Mount Everest for cheap, off-brand supplies. 

The silence settled when Rick entered the room. A bright flashing light emitted from the TV. Rick carefully walked towards the tattered couch, a small foot sticking out from under the thin blankets. The blankets were pulled up all the way to Maria’s nose, her big curls poking out in every direction. Her lashes fluttered with the movements of her sleeping state. The blankets rose and fell with each breath she took. Rick stared at her, watching the peaceful scene.

The sound of the front door caught Rick’s attention. Gee’s ratty old McDonald’s uniform appeared from behind the door. Rick saw the quick moment of panic on Gee’s face before he relaxed a bit, tension still evident in his body language. 

“Rick, que estás haciendo aquí?” 

“I’m going to assume that’s ‘what are you doing’ but I could be wrong.”

“What are you doing here?” 

Gee crossed his arms. His bloodshot eyes were weighed down by hard work. He stood on his left leg more than his right, sore from the eight hour shift he had right after school. 

“I forgot you actually work at a real job. I just thought you’d stay a drug dealer forever like the rest of us,” Rick said. 

“Look Rick, I don’t expect you to understand, but I have responsibilities now. I have my kid sister to look after, and I’m not about to let her get put in foster care,” Gee said, poking his finger after each sentence into Rick’s chest. 

“What, and I don’t have responsibilities? I got my family to think about too,” Rick said, his anger growing. 

“You don’t do shit for your family!”

“Yes I do! I pay the bills.”

“Yeah, with illegal money. Sooner or later people are going to find out you’re dealing drugs.”

“You know what it’s like living out here. You gotta do what you gotta do to survive bro. We’re the same.”

“Don’t you fucking dare compare me to you, Rick. We are nothing alike,” Gee snapped, mouth pulled back in a snarl. “In fact, everything was fine with your family before you went and ‘Ricked’ everything up.”

Rick could hear the sounds of a couple arguing through the open window and the busy roads far below. The little girl pulled the blankets up closer and turned towards the back of the couch. She tried to curl up even tighter, used to the regular disturbances. Gee looked over at her, his face blank. 

“What does that mean?” Rick asked, his voice barely over a whisper.

“You know what I mean, Rick.” 

Rick stood still for a moment, staring blankly at Gee. 

“I never liked you as a friend, Rick. You’re rude, crass, offensive, and, quite honestly, defensive as hell. Like what the hell was today all about at school? Punching Sara in the face? And it’s not just other people, it’s your ‘friends’ too. You don’t have to hide from me or B-man. We were there from the very beginning.”

Rick turned away from his friend and instead looked towards the open window. The couple arguing before got closer to each other, their shouts slowly dying. 

“We beat people up for you. We instilled fear into them. We tried to protect you because, yeah, maybe we kind of admired you. You fucking didn’t give a shit what people would say. You took it and dished it back out. You knew who you wanted to be and just, fuck.” Gee walked towards Rick, choking on his words. Rick could hear the lump in his throat and felt his own mouth go dry.

“Who are you trying to prove yourself to? Who are you hiding from? Why are you trying to hide?” Gee asked.

“Maybe that’s none of your fucking business. Maybe that’s just who I am. Are you going to accept me for who I am or are you peacing out?”

“There is nothing redeeming about you or your personality. I am just. So tired of you.” 

Rick pushed past Gee and headed to the door.

The empty streets echoed his steps, dark shadows dancing around the corners. The night breeze kept Rick cool as his mind raced. Everything was turning to shit, and his arrival home would not mark the end of that streak.

The black iron fence lining the stairs to his double block startled Rick back from his racing thoughts and replaced them with a wave of nausea and nerves. He didn’t want to face his family yet. Not after that conversation he had with Gee. He tried to find alternatives to going back home, but nothing came up. A tingling sensation ran up Rick’s limbs and a sudden embrace of coldness stuck to the sweat on his neck and hands. His clutched at his erratic heart, trying to will his fear away. 

Rick laid down as he caught his breath, closing his eyes and letting the white noise of the night calm him down. All he had to do when he got in was ignore everything they said. Acknowledging their words would only reinforces their idea. 

Rick stood up from the ground too quickly, dizziness causing him to stumble. He righted himself and took a deep breath. He told himself to just ignore them as he climbed up the stairs. He just needed to get to his bed. Then he could start over tomorrow. 

Grabbing the cold door knob, Rick twisted it as slowly as he could, trying to remain quiet in the hopes that both his parents would be asleep. He peeked his head inside, looking around the small florescent colored room to find his mother lying on the couch with the TV on. Her back was turned away from Rick, so Rick carefully started to walk inside, skillfully avoiding the creaky wood paneling. 

“Rinata? Is that you?” Rick froze in place, eyes wide as he stared at the couch. 

“Rinata, you know you can’t be out this late. You’ll get in trouble with all the boys,” his mother cooed. A slight slur was evident in her voice, and Rick felt his flight instinct kicking in. 

“Mi mija, my daughter, why don’t you come over here and let your mommy see your beautiful face? I want to see your face Rinata,” she said. 

It was torturous hearing his birth name, but his mother hadn’t moved yet. Rick just had to stay still for a little longer.

The front door started to creak open, his father’s brown eyes caught Rick before turning towards the couch where his mother sat. His broad shoulders brushed past Rick to kiss his wife after a night out of drinking. Her hands rubbed his shoulder before pointing at Rick, mouth forming words like a sluggish clock. 

His father stumbled towards him, Rick’s eyes grew wide. He held his breath as his father got closer, a small jolt of hope rekindling his desire for some sort of interaction since he came out to his father. A chance to rebuild the relationship they use to have. 

But he kept walking past Rick, trudging his way up the stairs. Rick waited until the loud bang of their bedroom door echoed through the walls. 

“Oh mi hija, why do you have to insist that you are a man,” his mother asked. “What are you gaining from this? Bruises and rejection? Why don’t you go to church with me and maybe, if we both pray hard enough, God will forgive you. God will forgive you and we can all live like a family again.” Rick’s mother got closer to him, her movements reminiscent of the Cheshire cat as she slinked her way across the room. 

“You’ll never look like a man anyways. You’re too thin, too girlish. You have wide hips and slender hands.” She picked up his hands. “Soft skin,” she said as she rubbed her thumbs on Rick’s knuckles. “Oh Rinata,” she trailed off, a faraway look in her eyes. 

Rick stared at her hands, watching them caress his small, thin hands. He looked up at her and saw the small smile on her face every time she muttered his birth name. He gently pushed his mother off him and slowly walked up the stairs, refusing to look back at the broken look on his mother’s face.

The old CD player played his Nine Inch Nail’s album “The Downward Spiral” on repeat for the last few hours, as he contemplated his situation. 

He already went through his entire stash of cocaine and marijuana and was working on his last bottle of Jose Cuervo tequila. 

Usually, he would feel great, a stinging awareness of the world that centered him. Now, he just wanted to throw up and peel his skin off. There was too much sensation from the drugs and drinks, but he didn’t feel anything inside of his chest. 

These contradictions spun in his mind. 

“Everyone I know goes away in the end,” the CD sang. 

Rick thought about his father, the first to leave when he went to jail. Too immature to settle down and get a real job, too self-destructive to care about his family. His mother, the one who refused to look past the little girl she raised herself. 

Rick thought about his friends, B-man and Gee. Ex-friends. Gee made it perfectly clear what he thought about Rick. B-man never came to get him. “I wear this crown of shit upon my liar's chair,” he sang softly, reminded of the person he has become, what people saw him as. Did they really respect him? Or did they fear him like Gee said? 

“Full of broken thoughts I cannot repair.” 

Rick put his hand on his chest, finding it harder to breathe both from the drugs and from the homemade binder.

“Beneath the stains of time, the feelings disappear.” 

Rick tried to get up, but couldn’t feel his legs. He swayed a few times trying to reach the door and fell like a sack of potatoes on the ground. “You are someone else. I am still right here.” 

Who was he even referring to now? There were so many someone elses in Rick. The Rick that goes to school. The Rick at home. The Rick that makes trouble and the Rick that tries to love. Who was he even?

“I will let you down, I will make you hurt.” 

A wave of feeling hit Rick’s heart. He sobbed, screaming as loud as he could. 

“If I could start again, a million miles away. I would keep myself.” 

There was no way he could crawl his ass out of this. He dug himself too deep into this mess. He ruined his life, he was scarred and marred and disfigured from his years of ignorance. 

“I would find a way.” 

A way. Rick look up, tears streaming down his face. 

“You’re pathetic.” 


	3. Well Concealed In Secret Places

Rick simultaneously felt the cool breeze on his face from the ceiling fan overhead and the warm blankets covering him from chest to toe. The shadows of a setting sun laid on the couch with Rick, leaving questions in his head that remained unanswered. 

He tried to get up, but felt a sharp pain on his arms and the tell-tale signs of nausea ready to hit. Slowly, Rick laid back down, letting his eyes close for a few moments until his swaying vision faded. He felt the soft, worn cushions underneath his hands and curled his fingertips into the tattered blanket on him. 

He laid there for what felt like hours trying to ignore the flowing stream of thoughts his fuzzy brain crafted for him to ponder on. Some of it was helpful thinking, like over where he was and what happened last night (Gee’s apartment. Overdid his self-medication again.) Other thoughts left more questions than resolutions, like why he was at Gee’s apartment. Still, it was better than the strange questions his hungover mind conjured up like how popcorn goes from a kernel to a fluff. 

Rick could not ignore the growing need to use the bathroom, and eventually found that the pressure could not be ignored anymore. He took a deep breath before slowly pushing himself off the couch, careful to keep his eyes closed to keep the nausea from hitting too soon. Knowing that this was Gee’s apartment aided Rick in his slow shuffle over to the only other room in the apartment. There was a lightness surrounding Rick that he failed to notice laying down that seemed to make breathing easier. A quick glance at his chest confirms that he was not wearing his binder, a fact that did not concern Rick as much as it should. 

After he finished relieving himself, and letting some of his nausea get the best of him, Rick mosed back over to the old couch to lay some more. He didn’t have any energy to investigate his situation and the thought of falling back asleep tempted Rick more than the thought of food. 

After getting settled on the couch, the quiet noise of a door opening got Rick’s attention. The couch was positioned so that it faced away from the door, something Rick could image Gee doing in an effort to protect his sister. While the thought of an intruder crossed Rick’s mind, it didn’t stay very long since even Rick sometimes didn’t visit Gee on the basis of it’s too damn high. 

The orange glow that’s been hitting Rick’s eyes suddenly disappeared, a questioning look crossing his face. At this turn of events, Rick opened his eyes and was greeted by B-man. 

“Rick.”

B-man looked serious. From where Rick laid, B-man seemed to tower over him like an iron wall ready to close him inside for good. Rick could feel B-man’s eyes on him, as if he can see every bruise and it made Rick feel self-conscious without his makeshift binder. He pulled the blankets up just a bit higher, snapping B-man out of his staring. 

Both boys stayed like that in silence, Rick waiting for B-man to make the first move. Rick didn’t know why he would appear here anyways. It seemed like B-man got the message, because he cleared his throat and looked away. 

“Are...you doing alright?” B-man asked and Rick wanted to laugh in his face. 

“I really hope that’s a rhetorical question B-man,” Rick replied. He saw the small wince and felt an inkling of regret at his sharp remark. 

“I... You didn’t come to school today.”

“Accurate observation,” Rick said slowly. 

B-man bit his bottom lip and looked at his feet. “Or the day before that.” Rick took a sharp breath at that, eyes growing wide. “Wha-”

“We found you in your room on the floor. There were bottles and syringes all over the place. You. You were barely breathing.” Rick looked away from B-man, suddenly aware of his breath. 

“We wanted to take you to the hospital but there would have been too many complications there. So we brought you back here, hoping you weren’t dead. We had to take your binder off.” B-man looked up at Rick, “You do take that thing off at night right?”

Question were circling around Rick’s head, making his already dizzy state more disorienting. B-man kept talking, trying to fill in the gaps of Rick’s memory of the events that transpired. Rick pulled himself up into a seated position and let his head fall onto his hands. B-man stopped talking a little after Rick moved, a deep silence and tension developing between the two. 

“B-man. I get the whole ‘help Rick thing’ you two did for me, but why,” Rick said, moving to look at his tall friend. B-man’s eyes softened, a small frown directed at Rick. 

“We’re friends.”

“But why! Why after all the times I’ve pushed you both away and hurt you two. Why do you still look out for me?” Rick asked in disbelief, watching the the gears move in B-man’s mind. Rick took a deep breath and looked away, watching the room darken from the setting sun. “Why do you still care about me?” 

B-man exhaled heavily before plopping down on the ground in front of the couch. “Rick, do you remember in 5th grade when I was first introduced in the classroom?” Rick didn’t move or indicate he was listening, but B-man kept talking. “I was so scared entering that classroom because I didn’t know anything. I’ve never seen people who looked so different from me, or spoke a completely different language than me. I remember looking out over the crowd of people looking at me, some looking at me with awe, others with hesitation, and others with a predatory look in their eyes. I was so alone in that moment. But then, when I sat next to you, you glanced over at me and gave me your pencil. Didn’t even say a word, just gave me your dull, chewed pencil.

“For the longest time, I couldn’t quite pinpoint why you did that, but from that moment on, I knew I could trust you. I knew that you understood what it was like to feel different.” B-man looked up from his wistful gaze at the floor to look at Rick, “I knew I had to protect you like you protected me.” 

At that, Rick turned slowly to look at B-man, hardly believing the words that he said. They both sat in silence again, staring at one another, as if a silent conversation was attempting to take place, to help both understand what the other really meant. Then Rick looked away, shame feeling heavy in his heart.

“I never protected you.”

“Bullshit!” B-man said, Rick’s eyes widening at his friends use of words. “You know that’s a lie Rick because I saw you. I saw you beat up kids for me and steal extra food from the lunch ladies when I didn’t have food for myself. You helped me learn English and learn history and science and math. For gods sake you…” B-man broke off, looking at the fraying ends of the couch. “You helped me get out of my relationship to Tammy,” B-man almost whispered the last part, that chapter of his life, Rick knew, was a hard one to talk about. 

B-man didn’t let it sit too long, and started to get up and move towards the door. “Rick, I know this must be hard for you to understand, but you’re actually a pretty good guy. I just wish you’d take that mask off and let others see you as you are. You don’t have anything to hide.” Before Rick could counter that, B-man took one final look at his friend before closing the front door. 

/ 

The strange city silence took over the room, sun finally almost out, leaving the room colored in shades of blue and gray. His nausea and hunger long forgotten, Rick sat on the couch slouched over feeling a strange new numbing sensation blossom in his chest. All Rick had the energy to do was sit there and let the feeling settle deep in his bones, for once not minding the empty feeling it brought.

After a while of self-reflection, Rick could hear quiet stomping on the stairs outside the door and an excited voice reverberating off the tiny stairwell. A little girl with curly brown hair came bounding into the apartment, backpack bouncing with each step she took. 

“Rick!” she called in shock while dropping her backpack by the door. He soon had an armful of Maria clinging onto him. 

“Maria, stop hugging him.” said Gee. He rushed over to Rick’s side and leaned in close, looking over Rick with those all-knowing eyes.

“But hermano,” she whined, “Rick has been sleeping for two days! Now that he’s awake we can go outside and play!” Despite her reluctance, she loosened her grasp on Rick, still hugging him around his waist. She pouted at her brother. 

“Lo siento María, Rick podría necesitar otro día para sentir realmente como él de nuevo,” Gee said. “Qué hay de ir a su habitación y hacer su tarea . Te llamaré cuando la comida está lista ¿bien?”

The girl nodded, climbing off of Rick’s lap and grabbing the backpack she dropped at his foot. Gee watched her as she walked over to her room and quietly close her door. Once she was out of the room, Gee’s soft face immediately closed off, arms crossing over his chest. They waited in silence for a beat before Rick looked away from his friend.

“Sorry.”

“Rick don’t-”

“No, Gee, I mean it. I’m sorry and not about taking up space in your apartment or making you freak out finding me or anything. I’m sorry for thinking you and me were the same. That we understood each other.” Rick half-heartedly laughed, “How could I expect you to understand me if I never show the real me,” he muttered. Rick looked at Gee, eyes hardened.

“You want to know who I’m hiding from? Who I’m trying to prove myself to? Everyone. Every fucking person in this damn world. Because they don’t want me. They want Rick Sanchez, life of the party and baddest bitch on the block. Well you know what, that’s not who I am,” Rick said, energy coming back to him. Gee let his arms drop by his side.

“Well you know what? I’m sick and tired of this! I hate the respect I get from people because they don’t respect me, they respect my fist. I go around starting fights cause that’s the only way I can get people to listen to me, to care about me.” A shuttering breath escaped Rick’s lips, quivering as he bared himself naked, almost literally, in front of Gee. Rick got up and walked towards the window, looking away from Gee and out the skyline.

“But I’d rather they respect me out of fear than not respect me at all. I’d rather act like a big shot then be ignored. I hate being ignored,” Rick said, almost whispering the last words. He took a breath, feeling surprisingly lighter than before.

“So I’m sorry Gee, for fooling you. Fooling everyone into thinking that Rick Sanchez knows what he wants and who he is. That’s not who I am.” 

The room was quiet. Rick watched the cars speed by like little lights along the road. There was an airplane that streaked across the sky and skyscrapers in the distance still lit up, making the city feel alive. Despite the grim and violence of the city streets, the city looked beautiful from here. Rick heard Gee walk towards him, waiting for him to kick him out or punch him. Instead, an arm snaked its way around his shoulders, Gee sighing and looking out at the city with him. 

“If anyone should be sorry it should be me,” Gee started, “I accused you of being an asshole when I was the real asshole,” he smiled weakly, shaking his head at the floor. “I had a lot of time to think about what I said to you the other day. I meant what I said, but I didn’t realize how I fit into this. I never let you be real. I had this image of you and any time you did something that didn’t fit, I pushed you back into doing what I thought you would do. I’d piss you off and everything was back to normal.

“Maybe it was because of everything I was going through at the time. Dad was sick for a long time so I never got to really know him. When he died, I didn’t really know what being a ‘man’ meant. Then you showed up. You gave no fuck what others thought and you made opportunities out of dead ends. When I said you inspired me, I meant it. I don’t know if I would have been able to step up when mom died if I didn’t meet you.”

Gee turned towards Rick, pulling Rick around to face him as well. “I was being selfish. Because I was scared too Rick. I was scared of losing the last thing that reminded me of better times, before shit hit the fan and I had to grow up,” Gee paused, looking over at Marie’s closed door. “Having someone to look after and take care of really changes your perspective. I started to hate what I admired because it didn’t fit what I was doing now,” Gee let go of Rick and walked over to the cabinet by the stove and pulled out some cans of tomato soup. “I got pissed because things didn’t make sense and took it out on you, since you were the ‘source’ of the problem.” Rick stood still by the window, watching Gee move about, grabbing a pot and spoon, stirring the contents to warm it up. They stayed in silence until Rick moved back towards the couch, sitting back down and closing his eyes. He leaned back into the ratty fabric, listening to the soft clanks of metal hitting together. He heard the cabinet open and close again. He waited for Gee to call his sister out, but after hearing nothing, he opened his eyes to see Gee offering him a bowl. 

“I don’t hate you Rick, I hate the illusion that you’re putting up of yourself. I just wish I knew you better and saw more of the authentic Rick. Maybe I could have learned a thing or two from that Rick.” 

Rick slowly grabbed the bowl from Gee’s hands, watching the steam rise from the creamy liquid. A slow smile took over Rick’s face as he stared at the bowl, nodding 

Gee walked away, calling for his sister and gave her a bowl of food. The three sat together on the couch, Maria excitedly telling her brother about her day, her eyes shining bright. Gee smiled at her, his body the definition of calm, arms relaxed on the top of the couch and body sprawled on his side of the couch. 

Rick looked down at his warm bowl of soup, thinking that maybe there is another way to live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY! I FINISHED MY FIRST FANFICTION! I never thought I would see the day I finished a fanfiction story idea. While I’m sure there was a lot wrong with the story (like characterization or passive voice), I FINISHED. I’ll take those small victories. 
> 
> Thank you for reading this story and please comment any suggestions you have for this story or suggestions on my writing in future stories. I have two, multichapter stories that I am planning, so I would appreciate all the help I can get.


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